Notes In Flowers
by LeeLee Lollipop
Summary: When John left a message on Sherlock's grave, he never expected to get one back. SPOILERS for The Reichenback Fall. JOHNLOCK! don't like, don't read.
1. Secret Love

John looked at the black headstone and traced the golden letters with his fingers.

"I miss you, Sherlock. Every damn day." he said quietly. "I kept everything just the way you left it. I think I'm just waiting for you to come home. Molly let it slip that you could be alive a few weeks ago. It just, I don't know, gave me hope that you'd be coming back."

John smiled slightly as he laid the agapanthus flowers against the headstone. "In all that genius, please let there be a knowledge of flowers. Please say that you know what they mean."

As he walked away, John looked back at the flowers.

_**Secret love.**_

_**A.N. I saw this one for a 'Labyrinth' story, and just had to do it for a post-Reichenbach story. I hope you like it, and any messages that people want to see, if you message me I will try and fit them in =)**_


	2. ForgetMeNot

Sherlock felt a tear fall down his face as he picked up the blue flowers.

"Oh, John." he sighed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He pulled another blue flower from his pocket and placed it where the first had lain. "Forget-me-not," he murmured.

_**True love, faithfulness and remembrance.**_


	3. Notes

John shifted nervously in front of Mycroft.

"You are aware that my brother lives?"

John nodded. "We've been exchanging messages."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"The language of flowers." John explained.

Mycroft frowned then waved a hand to dismiss John and sat back with a thoughtful look. "Flowers then, Sherlock?"


	4. Resentment

Sherlock stared at his grave. Three flowers. Two wrapped around each other, one stood separately.

"Two separate people, then."

Wormwood, labelled with an 'M' and a note.

_**Do not be discouraged**_.

"Do not be discouraged? About what?" Sherlock opened the letter. _Sherlock, I know that you still live. John may have been happy to learn this, but his happiness is quickly giving way to resentment and anger for your actions. Do not fear, he will come round. Your brother._

Sherlock looked at the next message, a Primrose wrapped around a Petunia, labelled with a 'J'.

_**I can't live without you. Anger, resentment.**_

"Oh, John. What have I done to you?"


	5. Forgive Me

John looked at the grave in shock.

A purple hyacinth, set over a small piece of paper.

"What the hell are you playing at, Sherlock?" he muttered, opening the letter. John nearly cried when he saw the elegant scrawl he had missed.

_John, I had my reasons for causing you pain, but never think that I enjoyed it. Please tell Mycroft that I must see him, he knows where. It is of the utmost importance. SH._

John gave a small sob as he looked at the flower.

_**Please forgive me.**_


	6. One Way Or Another

John sighed as he looked at the gravestone of his best friend. His _living_ best friend. There were no flowers, and there hadn't been for weeks.

He walked back to Baker Street, ignoring the feeling that someone was watching him. It was probably Mycroft, he seemed to be under the impression that John was depressed and suicidal.

As he opened the door to the flat, his eyes were drawn to the centre of the table. He snatched up the letter.

_Tonight may be the last I live. The reason I left you will be dealt with tomorrow, one way or another. SH._

John picked up the flowers. Nutmeg geranium, wrapped in monkshood.

_**I expect a meeting. Beware, a deadly foe is near.**_


	7. Where It All Began

John knew where Sherlock would end it all.

Bart's. Where it had all begun. Where Sherlock had first met the man he was now fighting to keep safe. Where Sherlock had first met _him_.

John laid a flower on the top step, where it would be easily seen, and pulled a note out of his pocket, slipping it underneath.

"Don't be an idiot, Sherlock." he whispered before leaving the Azalea and the snowdrop on the stone floor.

_**Take care of yourself. Hope.**_

**A.N. - I am so sorry, IamSHERlocked4ever (brilliant name, by the way!) I know I promised this earlier, but I had coursework to catch up on. I really am sorry it's late =(**


	8. No Flowers

Sherlock smiled to himself as he read the note John had left for him.

**Sherlock, **

**I know you're a genius, but if this time you really do end up underneath that headstone, I won't stop calling you an idiot until the day I die. I want to know that your alive by tomorrow, or I'm ringing Anderson and telling him every embarrassing thing I know about you. Like how you wanted to be a pirate.**

**Come back safe,**

**John.**

"Oh, John." Sherlock chuckled. "|I plan to stay very much alive this time, of that you can be sure."

There would be no flowers. No. The next time Sherlock gave John a flower, it would be in person.

**A.N. - And in a reeealy long epilogue chapter! Yay!**


	9. You Were Nothing To Him

Sherlock cautiously looked around the corner of the abandoned factory. Empty.

"Where are you?" he muttered to himself.

"Well, now. I think James was wrong about you. You might just be worth keeping alive."

Sherlock whirled around and looked into the face of the man who had been haunting his nightmares. "Sebastian Moran." he greeted.

Sebastian grinned slightly. "No need to tell me who you are. James did try and destroy you, after all. Sometimes I wondered if he really loved me at all, with how much he obsessed over you."

"James Moriarty didn't have the capacity to feel love, or understand it!" Sherlock spat. "He had no idea just what he'd unleashed the moment he threatened the people I love! He had no idea how much I would fight to obliterate all his work!"

"James loved me!" Sebastian growled. "I know he did!"

"There's a difference between sex and love, Sebastian." Sherlock scoffed. "The fact that you don't know that difference just proves how much of an idiot you are. And how easy it will be to kill you."

Sebastian chuckled darkly. "You really think I'll be easy to kill? Clearly your genius was exaggerated."

Sherlock smirked. "Not easy to kill. Easy to _distract_."

"What?" Sebastian sounded scared and Sherlock's smirk grew.

"Did you know that Moriarty didn't speak of you once? He never mentioned you at all, not even before he shot himself. He put the gun in his mouth and not once did you cross his mind before he pulled the trigger."

Sebastian was shaking, and Sherlock took the opportunity to move closer. "He didn't think of you at all. His last thought was how much his death would screw up _my_ plans, my life."

The sniper was white now, and tears were filling his eyes. "You're lying." he whispered. "You're LYING!"

"No, I'm not. Moriarty didn't love you. You were nothing but a convenient fuck to him. You didn't matter. He never cared."

A tear ran down Sebastian's face and Sherlock felt a twinge of pity. He'd be broken if someone told him John didn't care for him. He saw Sebastian bury his face in his hands and Sherlock didn't hesitate to pull the gun from his pocket and hold it to Sebastian's head.

"I'm sorry, truly, I am." he whispered, before pulling the trigger.

As Sebastian fell to the floor, Sherlock sank to his knees. "I did it. John is safe!" he whispered in relief.

**A.N. - I knew I said it would be one chapter, but going from this straight to the reunion didn't feel right. I hope you like it!**


	10. Welcome Home Sherlock

John stared at his phone in an early morning daze. Sherlock hadn't phoned him, or text him. Sherlock hadn't come to the flat. So John came to the only possible conclusion: Sherlock wasn't coming at all.

Tears were running down his cheeks as he slumped back in his seat. His eyes fell on Sherlock's violin and chocked cries burst from his lips. He'd built up an image of Sherlock's homecoming in his mind, where there would be heads in the fridge and violin notes echoing through the flat at 3 in the morning. John would come home to find Sherlock spread out on the couch, nicotine patches plastered on his arm and his hands steepled under his chin.

Wait, no he wouldn't. Sherlock was dead. Again.

"Why me?" John whispered. "Why are you always taken away from me?"

"Because Lestrade felt the need to punch me repeatedly as punishment for not telling him I faked the jump." a deep voice said in amusement.

John's head snapped up. A long blue coat, black curls, piercing grey-blue eyes. Sherlock.

"My god, you're alive. You're really alive."

Sherlock smiled. "Yes, John." he held out a flower. A white violet.

_**Let's take a chance.**_

"What do you say, John?"

John traced his hand over the faint bruise blossoming over Sherlock's cheek, then over the cut under his eye, before gently pulling Sherlock's head down to press a soft kiss to each wound. Sherlock gave a hiss, but when he looked at John, his pupils were so blown that his light eyes appeared black.

"Why, Mr Holmes," John smirked, looking at Sherlock's trousers. "Anyone would think you missed me."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Are you teasing me, John? Because I assure you, you will not like the punishment."

John pulled Sherlock on top of him. "Actually, I think I might." he grinned.

As Sherlock captured his mouth in a searing kiss, John's eyes fell on a vase on the dining table that hadn't been there before. Roses, orange lilies and phlox flowers.

_**Love at first sight, I love you. Desire. Our souls are united.**_

John smiled. "Welcome home, Sherlock." he whispered.

**A.N - Awww, sweetness! If anyone wants to know what happened next *wink wink* message me and I'll get it written down for you. There will be a chapter after this, and I'll bet that IamSHERlocked4ever can guess what it's about! =)**


	11. Years Later

8 years later.

"Papa! Papa, look what Daddy got me!"

Sherlock looked up and smiled as Rose came running towards him. He looked at the parcel in her hands and sighed. John had got her a kitten, of course. Sherlock swung his daughter onto his lap and lightly touched a finger to her nose.

"Daddy got you a kitten, didn't he?"

She giggled and nodded. "He said you wouldn't say no. You won't will you, Papa?"

She looked at him, all blonde curls and blue eyes and Sherlock sighed. He could deny her nothing. No-one ever needed to know that, of course.

"If you want it you can keep it, my little flower."

She smiled and threw her arms around him. "Yay!"

Sherlock hugged his little flower and smiled as John appeared in the doorway.

"Rose, Uncle Mycroft is here."

"Avez-vous votre sac de voyage?" Sherlock asked his daughter seriously.

Rose pressed a kiss to Sherlock's cheek. "Oui, Papa. Au revoir! Bye Daddy!"

She raced off and the two men smiled at each other. "I do wish you wouldn't teach her French, Sherlock. I barely know what she's saying half the time."

"And I wish you wouldn't teach her to obsess over jam and medicine like you do." Sherlock retorted. "She's seven, she shouldn't be able to describe a fatal wound."

"She shouldn't be able to have a better conversation in French than she can English."

Sherlock laughed. "Oh, John, how I love you!"

A faint pink spread over John's cheeks, like it did every time Sherlock confessed his love. "Sherlock I -"

"Shh." Sherlock whispered, putting a finger to John's lips. He pointed to the table, and John's eyes widened when he saw a large bouquet of roses.

"Sherlock, what -?"

"Happy anniversary, John."

John laughed as Sherlock kissed him. "And Mycroft decided to take Rose away tonight just by coincidence, I suppose?"

"Of course. He has no idea what I've been planning."

"And what have you been planning?" John asked, a teasing note in his voice.

Sherlock led John to the bedroom that they shared and opened the door, smiling as John gasped.

"Sherlock, it looks beautiful!"

Sherlock pulled John through the door then closed it. "Who cares about the room? I plan to be looking at something much more beautiful tonight."

John blushed then pressed his lips to Sherlock. "God, I'm so glad I married you."

"I knew that already." Sherlock smirked.

John smacked his arm. "No deducing in the bedroom."

"But if I didn't, I wouldn't have found that thing you like." Sherlock smirked again.

John pushed him onto the bed. "Shut up and shag me already."

Sherlock snapped a satlute that made John shiver. "Yes, Sir!" he purred.

19 years later

"Daddy! Papa blew up the table again!"

"Why, you little -!"

John sighed as giggles echoed from the kitchen. "I swear, I'm living with two children."

Rose appeared in the doorway, and as soon as John saw her he felt the familiar urge to lock her away so no-one could harm her. To him, she was still a knee-high little four year old that ran around jabbering in mixed French and English. Now, she was tall and beautiful, and John cursed her having Sherlock's genes. Thanks to them, no-one could take their eyes off her.

"Daddy, Papa want me to tell you that he's going shopping."

John raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure you heard him right?"

She nodded. "He said there was no milk, and that he was going to buy some more."

John's mouth fell open. "He what?"

"Well," she grinned. "I asked him to, so he said yes."

John chuckled as he heard the door open and close. "You really have him wrapped around your little finger, don't you?"

Rose grinned and nodded. "I'm half Watson, aren't I? That's what we're supposed to do."

30 years later

Sherlock walked out of the hospital room and looked at Rose. "He wants to say good bye to you."

Rose's face fell. "It's that bad?"

Sherlock hesitated, before nodding. "He'll be in hospital for the rest of the week. It's not very likely he'll make it."

Rose glared. "Did he come up with that or did you?"

Closing his eyes in pain, Sherlock forced back the tear threatening to spill from his eyelids. "He did. I refuse to believe it, but he wanted me to tell you the truth."

"Oh, Papa." Rose hugged him. "He'll be fine."

Sherlock let out a shaky breath. John would be fine, of course he'd be fine. He wouldn't die at all.

I'm sure. Come on, little flower. We should inform your Uncle."

"Papa, he probably knew before we did."

45 years later

Rose stood in front of the grave, smiling sadly at the names it bore.

Sherlock and John Watson-Holmes

"Salut, Papa. Hello Daddy."

A tear ran down her cheek and splashed onto the flowers in her hand. "Harriet sends her love, she misses her Granddad, and she keeps talking to the picture of her grand-pere. I know you hate it Papa, but the picture with the hat is her favourite."

A little dark-haired girl ran up to Rose. "Mama!"

Rose placed the flowers in her hand onto the foot of the grave and swung her daughter up into her arms.

"Au revoir, Papa. Bye, Daddy."

As she walked away, a light rain fell on the flowers that she had left.

Pink carnations and yellow zinnias.

_**I'll never forget you. Daily remembrance.**_

Rose didn't look back, so she never saw the flowers blow away and a new flower appear in their place.

Orange blossoms.

_**Everlasting love, marriage.**_

**A.N. - Well, that's done now. =( Please review and tell me what you thought. And to booda77, when I finish the 'what happens next', I'll send you it. I just don't want this story to be bumped to an M, as I'd prefer that people didn't have to search for it =)**


	12. Author's Note

Just to let you know, all those that wanted the 'What happens next', I've published it as a separate story. It's an M, but just check my profile and tell me what you think.

Hope you like it!


	13. Reply To 'N'

I recieved a review for this story, anonymous, otherwise I would reply by PM, and I would just like to clear up a few things.

Firstly: If you'd have bothered to check, you'd have found that I added the two notices to EVERY SINGLE STORY I WROTE, as I didn't see the point of putting it on my profile, because I know I sure as hell don't read people's profiles and I wasn't going to take the risk of the message not getting to people.

Secondly: I write for fun. I don't care if my writing isn't perfect. Hell, even Queen Rowling herself will have made mistakes every now and then. Also, do you not think I tried different formats for the story before I wrote it? Each chapter has a different flower message in, and the short chapters worked for me better than the long ones.

Thirdly: I'm sure you'll learn about SURROGATE MOTHERS someday too. Do NOT patronize me or treat me like a child. It would be obvious to anyone with half a brain that they'd have had to use a surrogate mother, as I didn't say in the summary that it was M-preg.

Fourth: Do you really think that I'd let all the 'OMG YOU'RE AMAZING!' go to my head when there are such _lovely_ people like you in the world that will put me down. I know for a fact that my writing needs work, and I welcome constructive critisism to help me get better.

Your review, 'N', was not constructive. It was not helpful in the slightest. It was a patronizing, demeaning review that, quite frankly, makes you sound like a child. Adding a little comment at the end will not make the hurtful words sound better in the slightest, especially as I take no credit for the flowers. I quite clearly state in my story that I saw the idea somewhere else and thought it was good. Read 'Tokens Of Affection' by Shinku if you want to see where I got the idea for the flowers from.

And another thing, You need to work on your writing skills. I assume that you are older than 10, so you should be well aware of the basic rules of grammar by now. Missing out apostrophes and using the words 'cuz' and 'wanna' makes you look immature and stupid.

To the people that actually read my stories, I'm sorry, but you won't be getting any updates for a while. I simply cannot find any joy in writing at the moment and I don't know if I will, especially if I need to "work on my writing a bit more" every time I write something.

'N', I hope you feel proud of that. I was hoping to become an author, but I suppose when you write just for the joy of creating something and you get told that the little thing that makes you happy sucks and you apparently don't know anything about your own writing...what's a girl to do?


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